She felt him grunt in his sleep and it woke her up. As she tilted her head to look at the time, she felt the clink. The sound of the collar against the chain enveloped her; she sunk into submission as if falling back into a dream. It was 5:49am.
He had been chaining her to the bed for a while now, not because she might go anywhere; she wouldn't. He just wanted her to feel she wasn't even allowed the freedom to consider it. She was his, the mere notion bound her tighter than any chain.
In the dark, she stealthily hopped off the bed and set his slippers on the floor, kneeling naked in front of them, her head bowed down. Right after the alarm, she felt him shuffle and place his feet on the carpet.
"Good morning, Sir."
"Morning," he said groggily, stroking her head.
He clumsily put on the slippers and sauntered to the bathroom, turned the lights on and rummaged through the mirror cabinet. She heard his voice over the faucet while he groomed himself.
"So... I have special news for you today." —he paused, waiting for an answer he knew would never come—.
Only the running water could be heard.
"You're not gonna ask what that is?" he inquired, poking his head out the bathroom door. "C'mon, I know you're curious."
She shook her head no. He knew how little patience she had with these things and kept teasing her.
"Why's that? Answer. I want to hear it," he said, unable to hold his smirk.
"Toys don't talk unless asked to."
"Oh my. Is that so?" he inquired with feigned ignorance.
"Yes," she said hastily, trying to keep it short so he'd go back to the news.
The questioner wouldn't budge. He knew her too well.
"I would never have imagined it. Tell me more," he added casually as he walked back to her.
"Toys don't demand, they obey."
"Is that what you are? A toy?"
"No."
"Huh?"
"I'm your toy. My only purpose is to be played with and used, however you please."
"Good girl," he praised, revealing his grin.
He opened her collar with the small key and made her crawl towards the kitchen behind him.
"You've behaved so well, I've decided to give you chair privileges for your birthday. You get to sit on a real chair today, isn't that exciting!?" he exclaimed with sardonic indulgence.
They stepped into the kitchen where a cake with candles sat on the counter. She looked up at the calendar on the fridge. September 5th. She realized simultaneously that it was her birthday... And she hadn't sat on a chair in weeks.
Always on the floor, always at his feet.
Unknowingly, she was becoming the submissive she craved to be. One whose sense of property within submission became greater than her very sense of self. The thought filled her with content.
His eyes were fixed on her, implicitly demanding an answer.
"Yes, it's wonderful!"—her face lit up with joy—"Thank you so much, Sir."
She was grateful for so much more.
"In fact... I have yet another gift for you!" —he perked up, filled with excitement aroused by an untold thought—.
